


null / positive (the direct current remix)

by theladyscribe



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 09:25:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18363197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyscribe/pseuds/theladyscribe
Summary: Three hours later, Zhenya's chills had subsided enough that he no longer felt as if he were shivering out of his skin, but Sid still burned like a furnace, hot enough to heat the water in the sink while he washed dishes.And that was how they discovered that Sid could borrow some people's magic for more than just a few minutes. Or at least, he could borrow Zhenya's.





	null / positive (the direct current remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jackpack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackpack/gifts).
  * Inspired by [null / positive](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16403876) by [sidsknees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidsknees/pseuds/sidsknees). 



Sid was a blank slate, no spark of magic coursing through his veins like most people. He couldn't produce a ball of flame with a snap of his fingers or move a pencil just by looking at it. But he could take a little of someone else's magic and do all of those things. Not all at once, and not for a long period of time, but a handshake or a hug could fuel Sid long enough to chill a drink in his hand. Sid had no magic of his own, so he borrowed it from other people.

Seryozha had explained it to Zhenya when he first arrived in Pittsburgh, and then told him not to ask about it. "It's rude. He's embarrassed about it," Seryozha had said when Zhenya asked why not. He had hedged, "Maybe when you become friends. And your English improves." That last part had been matched with a significant glance while they were stopped at a light.

Zhenya waited until they were friends, but he didn't wait for his English to improve. Instead, as he always had, he jumped in feet first: he invited Sid to take him to lunch. Sid got them take out and took him to the Lemieux's house, where they demolished three Big Macs apiece and watched yesterday's NHL highlights.

Sid did both things with the same sort of intensity he did everything. Zhenya watched him track the skaters on the television and lick the grease from his fingers. Sid noticed during a commercial break and turned toward him. "Do I have something on my face?" he asked.

Zhenya swallowed and leaned forward, grasping the back of Sid's head and drawing him in for a greasy kiss. The touch of their lips was like an electric shock, a fire between them, and Zhenya tried to pull away but couldn't quite get his body to respond. Sid gasped, and they both passed out.

An hour later, Zhenya woke up shivering, and Sid woke up burning hot. Zhenya leapt away, trying to conjure his heat magic to warm himself up. He could feel the deep well of his magic, but it was as if he were running on empty, as if he'd used everything up and needed to wait. Sid, for his part, was sweating through his clothes, his hair ringed with mositure and his skin flushed. Zhenya watched as he splashed water on his face and then followed Sid to the bathroom where he turned on the shower as cold as it would go. The steam that rose from his skin when the icy water hit it couldn't be anything but the result of a magical overload. It was so unexpected and so shocking, neither of them brought up the fact that Zhenya had kissed Sid.

Three hours later, Zhenya's chills had subsided enough that he no longer felt as if he were shivering out of his skin, but Sid still burned like a furnace, hot enough to heat the water in the sink while he washed dishes.

And that was how they discovered that Sid could borrow some people's magic for more than just a few minutes. Or at least, he could borrow Zhenya's.

They agreed never to do that again, to be careful about how and when they touched each other, just in case. That lasted a week or two, until Sid approached Zhenya after morning skate one day and asked if they could try it again. "Maybe if we practice, we can control it," he reasoned. "You know, build up to it. Maybe if we're both used to it, it won't take so much out of us."

Out of me, Zhenya thought. It didn't seem to take anything out of Sid. If anything, it pulled things into him. Out loud, he said, "Okay, Sid, but not on game day."

Sid snorted. "Of course we won't do it on a game day. Our next day off is Tuesday, we can try it then."

Zhenya agreed to come over for breakfast, and Sid agreed that if things went badly again, they wouldn't do it again. Sid's rooms in the rafters smelled like bacon and pancakes when Zhenya arrived, which was almost worth his nerves on its own. They ate in silence, though Zhenya noticed Sid stealing speculative looks at him across the table.

When they finished, Sid cleared their plates and came back to the table. He leaned forward in his seat and clasped his hands in front of him. "So I was thinking we should start slowly and work our way up. We could try holding hands first and see what that does. I usually get a spark from people when I shake hands, so."

He held out his hand, clearly waiting for Zhenya to take it. Zhenya hesitated but set his fingers to Sid's palm. It burned like ice, but neither of them passed out. Sid smiled, crooked teeth in a charmingly crooked mouth. Zhenya wanted to kiss him again, but knew from experience it was a bad idea. Feeling dizzy, Zhenya drew his hand away.

Sid reached for his mug, the coffee in it long gone cold. Soon, it steamed in his hand. "That wasn't so bad, eh?"

They held hands a few more times, each time a little longer than the last. Zhenya pulled away when it all became too much, and Sid let him go, that same crooked smile playing at his lips the entire time.

After that, they tested it out nearly every off-day, pushing the limits of what Zhenya could let Sid take. It hurt like hell every time, but he never said no. Sid had made it clear he could. A part of him thought he probably should, but another part of him - the part that had kissed Sid that first time - couldn't bear the thought of letting him out of reach.

They escalated from holding hands to hands under shirts to pressing naked chest-to-chest, until Zhenya could no longer tell how much of his dizziness was due to the sapping of his magic and how much was the thrill of Sid's touch. They kissed again, careful this time, and neither of them passed out. It was a victory that made them daring, and the next time Zhenya came over to offer Sid his magic, Sid backed him against the door and kissed him in greeting.

"You feel that?" Sid asked, running his hands over Zhenya's chest. Zhenya nodded. His magic flowed between them, leeching from Zhenya's core into Sid's hands. "What does it feel like?"

It felt like an ice bath too soon after a hard skate, like a punch to the kidney or a knife to the stomach. Sid stole Zhenya's breath with every look and stole his magic with every touch. "It feels good," Zhenya whispered, reaching up to press his hand to Sid's face.


End file.
